Major Guy Gold

Hanging in the hall of my parents home is an old
sepia photograph of my Great grandfather, Guy Gold,
and his family. He is smiling proudly across at his
youngest son Alistair and it’s an image that fits
entirely with my dad’s recollection of a kindly,
gentle old fellow who always had plenty of time for
children.

Recently, when my brother took it out of its frame
to scan it he found that written on the back was:
Shalford 18 June 1917. Guy Gold’s 40th birthday when
home wounded at Battle of Arras.

I always knew he had fought in WW1 and that like
many of the men who did, he was not a ‘career
soldier’ but beyond this I’d never looked into the
details of his military service. When I did I
discovered that there was a very different side to
this smiling family man. For a start the war he was
home on leave from was not his first.

He had already
fought in South Africa, 1899 -1902 where his
territorial regiment the Essex Yeomanry Cavalry were
employed to hunt down and engage mounted Boer
Kommandos. This photo (below) shows him on his
arrival in South Africa. He was aged twenty two at
the time.Photo Copyright
Tom Gold

From what I can tell he
settled quietly back into civilian life, married Maude
and started raising a family but when World War I broke
out the Essex Yeomanry was mobilized and embarked for
France to join the 3rd Cavalry Division.

In May 1915 they saw action at Frezenberg Ridge, where
the regiment made a gallant bayonet charge and succeeded
in driving the Germans from trenches which threatened
the flank of the 27th Infantry. Five officers and
sixty-five men were killed in the attack.

The Essex Yeomanry flag, or Guidon, has an impessive
number of battle honours including those of Ypres, The
Somme, Amiens and Loos but owing to the static nature of
the Western Front the EY cavalry fought mainly in a
dismounted Infantry role. It was not what they had
trained for.

That all changed on the morning of 11 April
1917 when they played their part in the battle of Arras.
They were tasked with securing the village of Monchy le
Preux, a vital piece of high ground which was at this
time held by German infantry. To do it they would have
to ride across over two miles of exposed farmland laced
with barbed wire and enemy trenches whilst under
constant fire. This was what they had trained for.

An artillery officer described what he saw that morning
in a letter home to his wife:
The most wonderful sight. It was a thing one could
hardly believe to be real. It was a splendid clear open
ground over a slight rise where I was standing at 9 a.m.
I had passed them (Essex Yeomanry) on my way up and
suddenly they passed me at the trot and as they got
level they broke into the charge. They thundered past me
with their swords and lances all in line. How they got
through the fire I don’t know, gaps appeared in their
lines and riderless horses were everywhere, but on they
went and crashed into the village which they took and
held.

Monchy le Preux does not have the name and notoriety of
other battles but it was the last cavalry charge on the
Western Front and Guy Gold, at the head of his squadron,
came through it unscathed.

But, by the time the EY were relieved two days later 135
of the 600 men who had taken part in the charge were
dead, many more were wounded and almost all the
regiment’s horses, corralled in the town square, had
been killed where they stood by a heavy artillery
bombardment during which Guy was himself injured.

Major JD Parker in 1992 recalled the relief of Monchy le
Preux:
The order rang out ‘Cavalrymen! Line up on the road.’
And the Yeomen sadly trudged to the rear past the place
where the bodies of their horses lay – an image which
stayed in the minds of those who took part long after
the war had ended.
My Great Grandfather was sent home on convalescent
leave where the picture, that started this story for me,
was taken. But this was not the end of his story. He
returned to France the same year and fought at Cambrai
and Villiers-Bretonneux, the EY’s last engagement before
they were disbanded and broken up among several other
cavalry units. After Germany’s surrender he once more
returned home to Shalford, and his family.
When war broke out again in 1939 Guy Gold immediately
presented himself for active duty but this time, despite
his protests, he was politely told that his fighting
days were over. He was 62.

However, the very real threat of invasion was already
prompting urgent calls for the formation of some sort of
home defence force and amid much confusion the Local
Defence Volunteers were raised. They were a regionalised
force primarily comprised of men deemed too old for the
regular army. Guy Gold was quickly appointed to command
his local Brigade.

Unfortunately the Government was being very slow to
equip the LDV meaning that in the early months they were
forced to make do with whatever weapons they could
scrounge or improvise, including shotguns, Molotov
cocktails and rifles appropriated from museums.
Their tactics would have included observing from
hedgerows, ringing the church bells to warn of invasion
and making barricades of broken farm machinery and
furniture.

At this time the same German Army, which had already
crushed France and Belgium in a matter of days was
just the other side of the English Channel , a bare
twenty five miles from Britain’s South Coast.I like
to think of my Great Grandfather as being able to
inspire calmness and resolve in those around him at
this difficult time but even he had never faced such
appalling odds. He must have known that if this army
were to cross the Channel then the Shalford Local
Defence Volunteers with their makeshift weapons and
ramshackle barricades would have to face the
full onslaught of the Nazi Blitzkreig; elite
paratroopers, devastating air power and fast moving
armour.

The invasion never came but
as its threat slowly receded my Great Grandfather’s
worries did not. By 1942 three of his sons were serving
overseas in a war that was far from over and in 1944
came the news that Rodney, my Grandfather, had been
killed at the battle of Anzio.

Local historian John Hervey records:
I will never forget Armistice Sunday 1944. As the names
of the men on the War Memorial in the church were read
out and for the first time, that of Rodney, his son, I
could not help looking across to him as he stood
supported by his walking stick. His facial expression
never moved, but for the first time, he did not go the
George Inn for a post service drink with the British
Legion members, going straight home instead.

He belonged to a generation that kept a stiff upper lip
and didn’t talk about personal problems but it’s still
hard to reconcile the image of the smiling man in the
picture I know so well with that of the elite cavalryman
whose skill with lance, sabre and small arms must have
made him a terrifying enemy.

Then there’s the image of the aging veteran with his
medals who, even after all the horrific things he’d seen
and the comrades he’d lost, stood up to be counted one
more time.

Most impressive of all was the man who could apparently
resume his life in between these events. There’s still a
lot I don’t know about him but I’m working on it and one
day I hope that myself and my two boys, who are four and
five, will visit Monchy le Preux.

The Photograph
and Text above was provided to this site by Tom
Goldwho
has shared with us a personal insight about his Great
Grandfather which helps us to understand what drove
heroes like Major Guy Gold to perform their deeds of
derring do.